The Shivering Isles
by xjoedirtx
Summary: When a strange portal opens in the Niben Bay, a Redguard and his Bosmer friend decide to enter and explore. Will they succeed in their adventure, or succumb to the blessing of Sheogorath's Madhouse? Rated T for some language, innuendos and violence.
1. A Door in Niben Bay

"Just what in Oblivion do you think it is?"

"I… I don't know. I've never seen anything like it before in my life."

Lyria and I stood at the top of a hill outside of Bravil, looking east over the Niben Bay. It was a cool, breezy evening in Hearthfire, Lyria's favorite month. Why was it her favorite month? Because it was her birth month, her birthday actually being today. Lyria dragged me out of her party to show me something outside the city, but we were distracted by what we saw out on the bay: a strange, new island. But it wasn't the island that intrigued us the most, it was what was on it.

"It looks like a big statue," I said, straining my eyes to focus my view. We could see it clearly from the hill, but it was still far off. "But of what?"

"I don't know," she said quietly. I turned to my Bosmer friend and looked at her face. There was a look on it that I'd seen before, and all of a sudden I knew what she was going to say before she said it. "Lets go check it out!"

_Earlier That Day…_

"Happy birthday to you!" I shouted, as Lyria blew out the candles on her cake. I'd had the best baker in Bravil bake it especially for her birthday. I figured, why not? Its not everyday that your best friend turns twenty years old, right?

Oh, but that's just like me to forget to introduce myself. My name is Rolith. I'm a twenty one year old Redguard, living here in Bravil. Actually, I'm from Anvil, but I've been traveling for a few years, raiding caves and ruined forts and selling the spoils. After four years of "vacation", as my parents call it to avoid ridicule from the neighbors back home, it was nice to take just one day to relax and have fun, especially since it was my best friend's birthday.

"Oh, you guys, thank you all!" squealed Lyria in delight. "It looks so delicious, I can't wait to slice it up and eat it!"

Our other friends, traveling warriors and merchants we've met over the course of our travels together, had come down to celebrate with us. By this point, the party had been going on for a couple of hours now. Everyone had a bottle of mead or ale in one hand or the other, and a couple of the Nords began singing traditional drinking songs, with a few others joining in despite knowing only four or five of the words.

Lyria stood up from her seat and picked up a silver knife. Today, like most other days we weren't out exploring, she wore a blue, collared shirt and a tan-colored skirt that she'd cut to show her legs up to just below her knees. She cut her cake into slices and began setting pieces onto plates, reserving the largest portion for herself. It was right there in the open, where anyone could've just came up and grabbed it. However, nobody did, and for good reason.

Lyria, despite being shorter that nearly every man in the room, could no doubt defeat each of them in unarmed combat. She was an expert in hand to hand combat and dagger fighting, and a master of archery. In fact, her keen eye and marksmanship saved my behind the first time we met, when we'd been enlisted by the Count of Chorrol to shut the Oblivion gate outside of his city. Those beautiful, light brown eyes of hers could spot a boar moving in a forest at almost a mile's distance. She kept her chest length reddish-orange hair up in a bun nearly all of the time, even outside of battle. Most guys we knew were afraid of what she could do to them, so they all did their best to stay on her good side. But what she had in bravery and fighting, she also had in kindness, caring, and eccentricity.

After cutting the cake, she put the knife down and ran over to me, jumping into the air and tossing her arms around me in a wild, rambunctious hug.

"Aww, thank you so much Rolith! I'm so glad you got so many of our friends to come all the way to Bravil for my birthday!"

I smiled, and laughed lightly. "Lyria, you're very welcome." I eased her back down onto her feet. "By the way, I forgot to mention that this house isn't owned by a friend of mine."

She looked up at me with a look of confusion and wariness. "Then whose is it?"

I threw my head back and laughed. "Ahh, Lyria, I love it when you think I've done something wrong. I own the house! I paid the Count a visit the other day and purchased it from him. I haven't brought you to it until today because the movers were still bringing in the new furniture. Say hello to our new home. Um, for now at least, until I can get that place out in Bruma that you liked."

Lyria took a step back, and even over the noise of the singing Nords I could hear her gasp in surprise. "Oh Rolith, that's so great!" She ran back up and hugged me again, wrapping her arms around my sides and pulling the fabric of my dark brown and black shirt. "But I thought you hated Bravil?"

I raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

She let go and stood back, a look on innocence on her face. "Well, remember that first time we came to Bravil? You said that it smelled like a sewer overflow, and that you couldn't sleep at night because of all the bug noises."

I carefully tried to remember that day, and I finally did. "I guess I just thought that it would remind you a little bit of your old home back in Valenwood." She responded with an expression that told me she was being _very_ critical of my words, and she put her hands up on her hips to further show it. I quickly explained myself. "Umm, I mean, the way the houses are built, not the smell or anything like that, haha. I wanted to try to give you a little piece of home until we could get the money for a better place."

She smiled like she was about to cry. "Aww, Rolith, thank you. You're right, the houses do remind me a bit of my old home, I love it here!"

I laughed and scratched the side of my head. "Well, your welcome, Lyria. Now come on, lets get back to your party."

She shook her head. "Nuh uh, not yet. I've got something you need to see, come on!"

She grabbed my hand and started pulling me towards the door. I stopped and pulled her back. "But what about the guests? Shouldn't we let them know? It is your party, after all."

She shook her head again. "Come on Rolith, we'll be back before they even know we're gone. Lets just go already!"

Now wondering, I asked "Where exactly are we going?"

"Ugh, must you make this so difficult?" she replied. "There's something in the woods outside the town I need to show you right now, so can we hurry up and go!"

I nodded, but then I looked over to the closet by the door. "Okay, but since we're going into the woods lets at least take our weapons. You know what we might find out there, and I don't want to be caught with my pants down by a bandit, or a troll or something."

She gave me a devilish grin, and replied "Oh of course, we wouldn't want to get caught now, would we…"

Confused, I asked "What do you mean by that?"

She returned to an expression of innocence, and shook her head, smiling. "Oh, nothing at all. Come on, lets get our stuff and get out there before someone sees us leave."

I opened up the closet, and grabbed my elven shortsword, my silver bow, and the Hatred's Soul arrows. I found them in the plane of Oblivion inside the gate that Lyria and I shut down during the Oblivion Crisis. I was nowhere near the archer that Lyria was, but I'd been getting better. Lyria grabbed her ornately carved elven bow, which was a gift from Daenlin, the Bosmer who owned the weapons store next-door, a quiver full of her specially ordered glass-tipped arrows, and her glass dagger. Now equipped for whatever we may find, we left the house without anybody even noticing.

Outside of the city walls, out of view of the guards and in full view of the bay, I stopped. "Okay Lyria, just where exactly are we going?"

She stopped, turned around, and sighed. "We're going out into the woods. There's something in a cabin that I need to show you! Its best we hurry up and get there, so that we can get back to the party sooner!"

That's when we saw it. A bright light came out of the center of the bay, attracting the attention of the two of us. We turned towards it, and just as soon as it was there, it disappeared, leaving behind an island with a rather strange statue in the center. We ran to the top of a hill overlooking the bay to get a better look at it. From up there, we could see the guards from the city gate running down to the shore, and decided to go see what they were doing.

We followed the two guards to a small boathouse, with a dock and a single boat outside. They were gathering oars, my guess was to row out to the island.

One of them noticed we were there and began walking towards us. "You two!" he shouted. "Get back, this is Bravil City Watch business, stay here."

"But we want to go see what that is too." I retorted indignantly. "As a citizen of Bravil, I want to know whats going on around my city." Lyria quietly snickered at this.

The guard stuttered, suddenly at a loss for words. Finally, he agreed. "Okay, you want to come with us, be our guests. I guess you're equipped enough if theres any danger, but be wary just the same. Grab a couple of oars from the boathouse and get in."

Lyria and I, suddenly distracted by the rush of a new adventure, completely forgot about what we were doing outside the city in the first place, grabbed the oars, and got into the boat. The four of us rowed out into the bay, and after awhile we reached the island.

It was made of rock, with some strange kind of moss covering it that I'd never seen before. Lyria had never encountered it either, and she was an experienced alchemist and botanist. More than that, though, strange mushrooms and other plants stood out. Some of them were dark, dreary colors, and others were bright, cheery hues. Either way, neither of us had ever come into contact with them. We walked up a path that seemed to have been cut into the rock, leading up the island to a top point.

Sure enough, at the top was the large statue that we saw from the shore. It wasn't like any statue I'd seen before. It was some kind of granite, cut into what looked like three different faces all attached together. The one of the left was a solemn, straight face. The one on the right was stretched into a teeth-bearing, wide grin. The center face, however, was clearly angry, as the mouth was wide open. Inside the mouth was what added an air of mystery to the island: a bright blue light.

The two guards, Lyria, and myself all stood outside the light, looking into it in clear awe and shock. Suddenly, the light began making strange noises, and the guards drew their swords. I followed suit, and Lyria drew her bow and nocked an arrow, aiming it into the blue. In a burst of light, a Dunmer appeared, in a strange type of clothing that I'd never seen before here in Cyrodiil. Just as soon as he appeared, he dropped to his knees and began wailing and gibbering.

Lyria and I lowered our weapons, not about to attack an unarmed man who was clearly out of his mind. The guards, however, took a different approach. They began to slowly walk towards him, weapons still out. The guard we spoke to began to talk.

"You there! Who are you, and where did you come from?"

The Dunmer looked up at the guard with an expression of mixed happiness and anger. "Its… its not right there. Y-y-y-you can't go in! Its madness, pure madness! Its all… its all wrong I tell you!"

The guard backed up three steps, and spoke again. "What's not right? What do you mean its all wrong?"

The Dunmer put his hands on the ground, then got up into a crouch. "STAY AWAY FROM ME! Y-you can't make me go back in there, I won't go back! I… I'll kill you all! Each and every one of you… you're all going to DIE!"

The Dunmer pulled a dagger from a pocket in his pants, and lunged at the guard, stabbing him in the throat. He stood up and set for the other guard, but the second he got into a standing position, an arrow to his lower spine put him back down onto the ground. Lyria had shot him, but he was paralyzed and not killed. She placed her shot perfectly.

The surviving guard sheathed his sword, kicked the dagger away from the Dunmer, and knelt by his slain partner's side, tears slowly making their way down his face.

"Rest now, Prentius. You're at peace now my friend." He stood and turned to us. "I suggest the two of you leave. Whatever is through that, well, light is dangerous. This man is clearly out of his mind. I'll stay here to warn others of what might happen if they go through."

Lyria and I turned to each other and looked into the other's eyes. I could see in hers that she wasn't about to leave, and neither was I. We never backed away from an adventure before, and whatever had caused this guy to lose his mind must have been one hell of an adventure. I turned to the guard. "We're going in. Don't try to stop us."

He was taken aback by my decision. He shook his head, and replied "Be my guest. I'm going to stay here. If you two come out like that guy," he pointed to the dead Dunmer, "then I'm going to have to do take you down."

We nodded, and approached the light. Lyria and I reached into it at the same time, and suddenly I felt an overwhelming tingling sensation throughout my body. I'd had the pleasure of being with many women on my adventures, many of them adventures in their own right, but those feelings were nothing like this. It was like an intense euphoria, like my whole body was being massaged by soft, caressing hands. However, at the same time it was the most oppressing pain I'd ever felt, like I was being beaten with heavy maces over and over again all around my body.

Just as soon as the feeling began, it was over. I was standing in a dark, nearly empty room, with Lyria at my side. On the far side of the room was a single, solitary door. In the center of the room was a table with a book and a strange, pyramid-shaped timing device. The needle moved from left to right, ticking with each movement. It was pretty annoying, to be honest. On the near side of the table were two chairs, and on the far side was a Breton in another chair. He was thin, gaunt, and balding. He wore a black and red robe, and wore it well.

"Please, sit down. Lets try to be civilized here, shall we?" He spoke with a bored drawl, like we were annoying him in some way.

Lyria and I looked at each other incredulously, smiled, then sat down. "What is this place?" I asked the Breton.

"This is his Majesty Lord Sheogorath's realm. Its known by some as the Madhouse, and known by its residents as the Shivering Isles." he replied in the same drawl. "My name is Haskill, I am Lord Sheogorath's personal aide and servant. At the current moment, however, you are in the Fringe, a sort of test area."

"Okay Mr. Haskill," said Lyria. "Why did the island appear in the bay?"

He sighed. "There's no need for the 'Mr.' part of it, you may simply call me Haskill. As for the reason it appeared, there is a dark time coming in the Isles. That is all I can tell you at the moment. Lord Sheogorath is searching for a mortal 'champion' to aid him in stopping this event. However, it appears two of you have answered the call. This makes my job so much easier."

I could easily read the sarcasm in his voice. This guy either didn't want us here, or didn't want to be here himself. "Okay then," I said, "what do we have to do?"

Haskill sighed again. "Lord Sheogorath sends his invitation to his palace in the capital city of New Sheoth, on the other side of the Isles. Presuming you survive the journey, he wishes to have an audience with you. However, you are free to deny this invitation and return to the realm of mortals if you wish. The decision is up to you."

I turned my attention to Lyria. "Well? What do you think?"

She turned to me, and smiled. "Are you kidding me? Daedric lords, strange lands, and crazy people? You know I'm in this."

I laughed. "Ah Lyria, you make me laugh so much." I turned back to Haskill. "Fine then, Haskill. We'll accept the invitation. Tell Sheogorath that we'll meet him at his palace and speak with him."

Haskill sighed once more. "Alright then, I will let him know of your decision. Welcome to the Isles."

He stood up, and walked to the door. When he opened it, no light came through. It was just a black, empty void. He stepped into the void, and shut the door. Lyria and I stood up, ready to follow him, but then we heard a noise.

"What the hell is that?" Lyria asked.

I listened closely. "It sounds like wings, like an insect or something."

The sound got progressively louder and louder, until it seemed like the entire room was fluttering. Suddenly, a stream of light broke through the wall. Another came through the wall on the other side. More beams burst through the walls as the fluttering grew louder, and suddenly the room erupted in light. The walls began to slowly turn into bright, fluorescent butterflies, who flew off into the distance in a great, black cloud. After a few seconds, I got used to the burst of light, and my eyes adjusted. What I saw completely struck me.

We were on top of a hill, made of the same rock and covered in the same mossy grass as the island in the bay. Towering high were gigantic mushrooms hundreds of feet high. The roots twisted and rolled across the landscape, creating a maze-like landscape.

I looked at Lyria, who was still in awe at what she was seeing. "Lyria, are you okay?"

She nodded, turned to me, and smiled. "Yeah, I'm good. Look over there. Do you see those buildings over there?"

I put my hand over my eyes and squinted to block out the low sunlight coming over the hillside. I looked in the direction Lyria was pointing, and I saw what looked like a two story building, with two or three others around it. If there were people there, they might be able to direct us to New Sheoth.

"Come on, Lyria. Lets go."


	2. Through The Fringe of Madness Pt1

Lyria and I walked past the gigantic brown-and-grey headed mushroom trees, along the path that we hoped would lead us to the town that we could see from the top of the hill. At least, I hoped it was a town. As strange as the landscape was in this place, what looked like a town might be a trap, or something worse.

We treaded carefully; for all we knew there could be some creature out here just waiting to rip the flesh from our bodies and gnaw on our bones. Sure enough, up on the hill to the left I heard a noise, and a small pebble dislodged somewhere, roll-bouncing down the hill and coming to a stop right in front of me.

Lyria, with her ultra-sensitive hearing, heard the sound before even I did, and threw her arm in front of me, forcing me to a stop. Dead still, she focused her hearing, and pushed me back with all the strength she could muster, tossing me out of the path of an arrow that would've been lodged in my head. With the speed and grace of a gazelle, she drew her bow, nocked an arrow, aimed, and released, the whoosh of the shot ringing out in the utter silence. It disappeared behind a bush, and I heard a wet pop and a loud, frog-like pained groan. Suddenly, the body of something that was shaped like a person rolled down the side of the hill, an arrow stuck deep in its left eye. Lyria lowered her bow, signaling that we were now alone.

"What the hell was that?" she asked, her voice tinged with excitement.

"I have no idea," I semi-whispered as I slowly made my way towards the dead creature now lying in the center of the path.

Lyria chuckled. "Rolith, its dead, I can't hear its heartbeat anymore. You can move a little bit faster."

"Ha ha, very funny," I retorted sarcastically, but I quietly laughed with her. When I reached the corpse, I knelt down beside it.

I looked at it closely; Lyria considered me the creature expert in our little duo, but I'd never seen anything like this before. The thing was shaped like a human, but it had wet, amphibious skin, like a frog. It wore a loin cloth, which was strange for most creatures. It could also use weapons(the bow, and a quiver of arrows on its back) and crude(but most likely powerful) poisons, since there were fluorescent-colored fluids on the tips of its arrows.

"Well?" asked Lyria impatiently. "What is it?"

I stood up and did my best to sweep the dirt off of my knees and wipe the wetness from its skin off on my pants. "I have no idea. Its like a frog, but also like a human. Its using weapons and poisons, so I think the closest thing I can relate it to is a goblin."

A look of confusion on her face, she asked "But it looks nothing like a goblin."

I shook my head. "I never said it looked like one, I said I can relate it to a goblin. Whatever it is, there might be more out here." I looked up at the sky, and saw that the sun was now barely reaching over the towering walls surrounding the place that Haskill called The Fringe, which meant that it was almost nighttime. "Lets get to that town and out of the open before nightfall. I don't want us getting jumped by something out here."

She nodded, and we continued on. It was another hour before we reached the town. It wasn't as small as it looked from the hill. The path from the hill led us to the front of the town. It continued straight, but it also segued into the town itself, with three buildings on the left, one on the right, and a giant mushroom tree behind one of the houses on the left. Beyond the tree was a medium-sized swamp, complete with still waters. Where the path segued were two men, a Dunmer and a Redguard, talking to each other, the Redguard holding a torch in his hand. As we approached, it became more clear what they were saying, but not what they were talking about.

"So did you see those adventurers on their way up to the Gates?" said the Dunmer.

"Yeah, I saw them from my house earlier," replied the Redguard. "Oh, I can't wait to see the Gatekeeper tear those fools to bits."

The Dunmer laughed lightly. "Of course, it will be quite the slaughter. I just hope it doesn't send any of the corpses flying into Passwall. Can you imagine the germs in those bodies?"

The Redguard suddenly smiled widely. "Felas, my friend, lets go see it right now!"

The Dunmer shook his head. "Oh no, Shelden, I'd rather not. Those adventurers are most likely full of germs and disease. I'd hate to get infected by one of those fools."

"Aw, come on Felas, it will be fun! When was the last time we saw as big of a group as that one get completely destroyed by the Gatekeeper?"

The Dunmer seemed to consider this for a second, then responded. "Oh, all right then, I guess there's no harm in it. Just as long as I don't get any of their diseases, and they don't get any blood on me."

Lyria and I came closer to them, and they seemed to notice us. The Redguard, Shelden, turned towards us and approached me, smiling. "Welcome, friends! My name is Shelden, and I'm the mayor of this beautiful town of Passwall."

I nodded to him. "Hi there Shelden. My name is Rolith, and this is Lyria. We're looking for Sheogorath's Palace, can you help us get there?"

Shelden looked confused for a second, but then he burst out into a roar of laughter, as did his friend, Felas. It took him a few seconds to calm himself, then he took a more serious tone. "My friend, you can't get to Sheogorath's Palace, not while the Gatekeeper is alive, that is. My suggestion is you wait here in Passwall, until either he blesses you, or someone kills the Gatekeeper." He laughed again at that last. "Well, that's never going to happen, so I'd just wait if I were you."

Confused, Lyria asked "What do you mean by that? Whats the Gatekeeper?"

Shelden shook his head. "He guards the Gates of Madness. Come with us and see for yourself, he'd about to destroy a party of adventurers." And with that, Shelden and Felas dashed off down the path, up another hill.

I turned to Lyria. "Want to go see what he meant?"

She nodded, and we hastily pursued them. Up a few stairs, at the top of the hill, we could see a gigantic gate, with two large hallways leading to doors. Between the two halls was a huge stone bust of Sheogorath, the Daedric lord of Madness. But the gate and the doors weren't the biggest things that caught our attention. There was, of course, the towering, hulking Gatekeeper.

The great beast was shaped like a man, more-so than the creature we encountered earlier. Its jaundice-yellow skin was disturbed by red markings all over its body, and stitch lines that crossed its chest, legs, and arms, making it seem as if the creature was painstakingly sewn together. Huge shackles were attached to its ankles, wrists, waist, and stomach. And the most menacing part of all? The five foot long blade that stuck out from its bicep instead of a forearm. The blade was massive and thick, and made me wonder whether this creature was a common element of the Isles. Would we have to fight more than one of these 'Gatekeepers'?

Lyria and I found Shelden and Felas sitting on two large boulders, on the opposite side of the stone courtyard which the Gatekeeper slowly trodded on. We sat next to them, and heard a war cry come from the rocks to the south of us, our right.

From behind the rocks came a dozen warriors clad in full steel armor, and an Orc clad in a full set of ebony armor.

"Okay men, lets take down this bastard and get into the Isles! GO!" shouted the Orc captain. The men swarmed the Gatekeeper, but within two seconds he'd sliced one completely in half with the great arm-blade, sending blood flying out a great distance and splattering all across the ground.

"Haha, just look at all the blood everywhere!" laughed Felas. The Gatekeeper cleaved another warrior in half down the middle, his armor falling off in halves. A few of the men slashed and struck at the Gatekeeper, but the creature didn't even bleed. Two warriors were swiped by the flat side of the blade, and were sent flying into the wall between the two hallways, crashing and leaving bloody smears as their bodies bounced off the wall and hit the ground. With four down, the remaining men must have begun to lose morale. The Orc took charge.

"Keep fighting men! Do not give up, we can kill this creature and get into the Isles. Remember, fight for the treasure inside!" The Orc took a huge left fist to the side and fell to the ground. He got back up, and was the first to see a downed warrior get stomped by a huge foot of the Gatekeeper. We could hear the crunch of metal through bone and into stone even from our distance. The stone courtyard began to look more and more like the Bloodworks beneath the Arena in the Imperial City. Even the bust of Sheogorath received a fresh paint job as the Gatekeeper picked up a warrior in its left hand and slammed his head into it.

"There's no way they can win," Lyria said quietly. "They're down to half their strength, should we go help them?"

I shook my head. On her face was an expression of confusion. Although she was silent, her eyes were asking "Why not?"

"We'd get slaughtered," I replied to the non-question. "Twelve men, six now dead, and the damn thing is still taking them out one by one." As I said that, the keeper drove its blade into the chest of a downed warrior. "After all the damage dealt, it hasn't taken any itself. Its got to be heavily enchanted."

Just when the eighth warrior was knocked to the ground and crushed by the fist of the keeper, Lyria asked "Well then just what the hell are we supposed to do? We've got to get past those gates, and the only way is through the Gatekeeper."

"You might want to try talking to Jayred Ice-Veins," said Shelden, without taking his eyes off of the gorefest before us. "I've heard him saying something about a 'grand plan' he has to kill the Gatekeeper. Try the Wastrel's Purse, if you hurry back you might catch him before he heads home."

Lyria and I stood up, turned from the dismal display of force, and casually walked down the path, the screams and moans of wounded men carrying over our heads. The thought of having to face that beast traversing my mind, I asked Lyria "So what do you think about having to fight that thing?"

"Well," she said unsurely, "lets just hope that this Ice-Veins guy has a decent plan, or else our blood is gonna be used as paint next."

"The Wastrel's Purse" was carved into a wooden sign outside of the front door of a two-story building. Other than the thatch roof, the wooden pillars, and the wooden window frames, the inn was made out of stone, like any other inn we'd stayed in before. One familiar thing wasn't enough to convince me it was safe, though. Lyria and I nodded to each other before entering, signaling that we needed to be hyper-vigilant, otherwise we might not get out of here tonight. I stepped forward and opened the door.

Inside, the inn looked like a normal inn bar-room. There were tables and chairs with candlestick centerpieces, tapestries and landscape pictures on the walls, and bottles of wine in racks against the wall. If anything, the tablecloths on the tables made the place look more up-scale that most inns back home. Behind the counter of the bar was an Altmer woman. She stood hunched over, with her head hanging down and her arms slouched. She seemed extremely exhausted for some reason. I walked up to the counter and sat on a stool, Lyria sitting beside me.

"Excuse me," she said, in her sweet, slightly high-pitched voice. "Are you the owner of this inn?"

The Altmer snapped her head up, surprising us. She gave a wide smile, and answered. "Yes, my name is Dredhwen, and I'm the owner of The Wastrel's Purse. Nobody was running this place when I arrived, so I took over. What do you need?"

Lyria and I exchanged slightly relaxed looks, but we were still ready for anything. I decided to speak first. "Hello Dredhwen. I'm Rolith, and this is my friend Lyria. We're new to this place. What do you recommend?"

"Well, I can't say much for residents of the isles proper, but here in Passwall we do tend to favor the smoked baliwog leg, and a bit of flame stalk on the side."

I smiled at her. "Well Dredhwen, I'd like to try some of that." I turned to Lyria. "What do you want?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, thanks I'm not hungry."

I smiled at her and shook my head. "Not hungry my ass. Come on, get something to eat, I'll pay for it."

She gave me a look of utter frustration, then turned away from me. I'd seen that expression countless times before when she didn't get her way, usually in the face of my attempts at some kind of chivalry. I knew I'd won.

"I'll try the baliwog leg. But do you have anything other than flame stalk? It doesn't sound too appetizing." Her voice was tinged with anger, but she knew she wanted something too.

"Hmm, well, I do have a bit of alocasia fruit here. Would you like some of that instead?"

Lyria nodded, not ready to completely verbally admit her defeat. Dredhwen walked away into a back room, and came out with two plates. Both had a stubby, greenish-blue leg on it. One had pinkish purple fruit, and the other had two thin, green and bright orange plants. She placed them in front of us and gave us each a fork and a knife.

"Here you are, enjoy your meal." she said with a seemingly weak smile.

Surprised at the speed of service, I asked "How did you get it finished so fast? Usually it takes awhile to cook food that looks this good."

"Oh, everyone in town comes here to eat, so I've always got a few legs smoking in the back room. I hope you like the food. If you'll excuse me, I'm just going to go rest my eyes for a little while." With that, she walked off and disappeared into the back room

I looked the meal over once, taking in the sight of it. This definitely wasn't a leg of anything I'd seen back home. It seemed amphibious, since the skin was smooth, and it had a bit of a sheen to it. The smell was overwhelming, in a good way. I picked up the fork and knife and cut a small piece of it off, impaling it with my fork and sliding it into my mouth. It was unlike anything I'd tasted before in my life. Even S'jirra's potato bread wasn't as delicious as this. The skin texture was a bit tough to chew, but the meat underneath was even more tender than venison. I loved it so much that by the time I was done with my leg, Lyria had barely taken two bites of hers.

Our eyes locked, and she stared at me with a look of complete incredulity. "Wow," she chuckled out, "you must've been really hungry then. I'm a bit afraid to be out with you when you're hungry, you might eat me next, haha."

I scowled at her playfully, then proceeded to eat my flame stalks. I don't think that the green portion was meant to be eaten, since it was absolutely devoid of flavor. The orange bit, though, was quite tasty. Not as delicious as the baliwog leg, mind you, but still a good bit. It had a salty, yet sweet taste to it, like if whoever created it couldn't decide the right balance of both, so they just tossed in equal amounts. Underneath it was a somewhat sour taste, but not really noticeable unless you were paying very close attention to flavor, which I was.

I was so engrossed by the sensations flitting about my tongue from these new delicacies, a tall, brown-haired Nord man walked in. He was wearing an almost complete set of fur armor, missing only the helmet. He had a bow slung across his back, and a quiver with about six or seven arrows, quite low. He walked to one of the tables in the center of the room and took a seat. Dredhwen came from the back room and walked towards him. They spoke quietly for a few seconds, then she disappeared in to the back room, and came back out with another plate with baliwog leg and flame stalks.

"Here you go, Jayred." said Dredhwen.

"Thanks, Dredhwen," replied the Nord, Jayred. "I appreciate the food. And once I kill that Gatekeeper out there, I'll be sure to bring you some good food from the Isles proper."

Dredhwen nodded, then sleepily walked back out into the other room. I walked over to the Nord, now happily eating his baliwog leg, and sat down across from him.

He looked up at me, clearly not appreciating that I was disturbing his meal. "What the hell do you want, Redguard? Spit it out, before I use your bones for decorations."

A bit reserved, I answered. "My name is Rolith. My friend Lyria and I were told to find you by Shelden. He said you have a plan to get rid of the Gatekeeper and enter the isles."

Jayred stopped eating his meal mid-chew and looked up at me. "Yeah, I've got a plan. A damn good one, too. And I'd've gone through with it too, if that damn gate wasn't locked."

"You mean the Gates of Madness?"

Jayred shook his head. "No, you fool, I mean the gates into the gardens of Flesh and Bone. My fingers are too big to use a lock pick the right way, and every time I try I end up breaking them."

Lyria came over and sat next to me. Confused, she asked "Why do you need to get into there?"

Jayred took a bite of flame stalk. "Cause the only way to kill that damn Gatekeeper is with the bones of its predecessor. I need the bones of the last gatekeeper to make arrows, you see. With the arrows, we can kill it." He eyed Lyria with interest. "Say, you wouldn't happen to be good with a lock pick, would you?"

She nodded, and smiled. "Actually, I'm pretty good with one. Problem is I left all of mine back home."

Jayred laughed, and took another bite of flame stalk. He reached into the pocket of his fur greaves, and pulled out two lock picks. "Here, you can have these. If you can get me in, I can get the bones and make arrows out of them. We can use those to kill the Gatekeeper and get out of this miserable confine."

Lyria and I looked at each other, and nodded. We decided to help Jayred get his bones to make the arrows. When he finished his meal, we set out for the Gardens of Flesh and Bone.


End file.
